To See Without Sight Is A Blessing Of A Curse
by EverythingXBurrito
Summary: In order to find the Vongola Half-Rings, the Varia hire a young woman from Ireland. However, her assistance comes at great cost to the psyche and brings along benefits that no one in their right mind would ever pay for. BelphegorXOC
1. A Prologue, Perhaps

"So you've come," she smiled, wide and brimming to show off each one of her pearly, white teeth. Her relaxed demeanor showed through thoroughly as she stretched her body over a velvet covered armchair. The child, who aged hardly over fifteen, strung her fingers together to form a pyramid. She chuckled with a faux sense of warmth before clicking her tongue against her teeth a few times. Her gangly hands gripped a bundle of lightly cindering sage, waving the sharply scented smoke beneath her nostrils. Over eight other tightly bound hunks of green were oozing an acrid stench into the air. Small, bronze trays hung from ceilings to leak incense through the dirt walls that surrounded her and stone oil burners helped perfume the oxygen further. The entire shack was a maze of strange aromas and hallucinogenic exhaust.

As for the female lounging about in the swirling grey fog, she saw far past the labyrinth she'd created. After all, the point of creating such smog was to confuse and disorient all who entered her cabin. Well, it wasn't so much of a cabin as it was a shack. A shack that hid itself in a shroud of fog and grass so no one could enter with ease. It had been built hundreds of years ago but the child managed to keep it in perfect condition. Every inch of the soil walls had been decorated with talismans and tapestries and torches. A collection of swords and fans dangled from their respective spots, each one far different from the last.

"What is it you seek, Varia?" the young woman plucked a ornate pipe from the rickety wooden table beside her. She took a long drag from its mouthpiece, allowing a moment for the vapors to stew in her lungs. A heavy plume of smoke was forced into the face of a man who seemed to be hardly more than a collection of silvery hair and seething rage. His nose twitched to the side in an edgy manner. He was not at all happy about being sent to this underground lair. Upon specific orders, the swordsman had traveled to Ireland in hopes of meeting with the 'Seer'. And that's exactly who stood before him. Or at least he presumed her to be, unsure because of the way his sight was being bent. Fire seemed to shoot from the back of her head though, in reality, it was a clump of matted, curly hair tinted a vibrant orange.

The only other piece of her that stuck out through the darkened fog was a pair of eyes. Sightless, to be precise. The irises were a milky white, blending in and out of the smoke with their Maltese shading. No light sidled through them, no darkness either, simply an ever traveling black. And that was the blessing in the curse of the Seer.

"I can bring you him world, if the shark so desires." she snickered, a cruel yet innocent edge in her voice.

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><p><em><strong>Pet projects~ They make me smile. I had a sudden burst of inspiration the other day, climbing around on my best friends roof. Review if you want to see the next part soon! Sub and fav, because you're all my muse! Thanks for reading, mooncalves<strong>_

_**~EXB**_


	2. A Very Pretty Man

"We need to know where the Vongola Half-Rings are." Squalo pushed a leather briefcase in the female's direction. Her grin widened considerably. Money was, undoubtedly, her reason for life. That and the colorful array of smokes she sampled on a daily basis. It was an absolute wonder Seer's lungs hadn't ceased function yet, after two years of inhaling nothing but acrid smog and sweetened incense. She sat forwards sharply, wrapping long, painted nails about the corners of the satchel. Her eyes glared off into space, one listing to the right and the other boring its way into Squalo's chest. A shiver was sent down his spine, goose bumps rising above his porcelain flesh. He silently cursed his boss for selecting such an eerie informant. There were over five hundred prime information brokers living in Sicily alone, yet the Varia chose a hovel in Ireland inhabited by a blind child. Then again, she had come at high recommendation.

"Ah, and so the shark wants jewelry! Won't he just look darling adorned with gems and gold? Such beautiful hair as well! He'd make a gorgeous woman." Seer released a rampant snicker, ending in an extremely unattractive snort. Her ruby lips wound themselves around yet another pipe, this one sharing odd similarities to a slide whistle. She took a full breath of the strange green exhaust that drifted from its tip. Her taste buds exploded with the mixing flavors of smoke and rose water, a combination she'd invented to please her heightened senses. Seer allowed the vapors to come rushing through her nostrils, tainting their flesh just slightly. Squalo swatted the ever growing cloud from its area beneath his nose, hoping to avoid choking on its bitterness. The hallucinogens Seer had laced her tobacco with were taking their toll on the man's mind. It had begun as little more than twisted space but soon evolved into stallions appearing in the swirling grey and running about the room.

"The... The amount was what you asked for, Seer." he rubbed his bloodshot eyes as he spoke. With any luck, the simple gesture would cure his ailment, but it was obvious he'd remain afflicted. Squalo blinked in frustration, giving the female a disgruntled look as she blew a ring of fluent grey into his face. He'd been warned to not upset her or deter her in any way so he kept his lips pursed tightly. Seer flicked the case open, placing her pipe in its stand for a short moment. She pulled her cheeks back to form a dazzling grin. Though she couldn't see the money, she could smell every fiber. The child let her fingers glide over each fresh stack of bills, checking that the Varia planned to pay her correctly. Seer snapped the parcel closed again.

"Perfect~ So it's the Half-Rings, is it? You want to snag them before Vongola X does? And you require my assistance? It's a heavy load indeed, but I can hold it with ease. Drop the formalities, call me Fumare, we're business partners now." she relaxed, sinking back into her armchair. The child pulled a fine, Cuban cigar from the box beneath her feet, lighting her own before offering one to Squalo. He shook his head weakly, trying to fight off the figures that were now invading his mind. Every shadow turned into the face of a man and a shark had formed from the smog. It was swimming around him rather eerily, pausing occasionally to eat a fish that wasn't actually there. Seer stepped across the cluttered table, balancing one foot on the huge pile of money. She didn't seem to be accepting his refusal very well, taking it upon herself to poison him further. Seer poked the butt of the cigar into Squalo's mouth and clenched his nose shut. After a few muffled chokes and coughs she began to croon,

"Just breathe, the shark won't be hurt. He's a good boy, he's got nothing to worry about. Nothing at all..."

XxXxXxXx

Squalo let a moan echo from his throat, taking a deep breath of fresh air for the first time in far too long. His skull felt like it was about to explode, bordering just on the line between migraine and serious head trauma. He began to massage his temple in hopes it would cure his aching body. Every last inch of him felt worn and cold, as if he'd been raped by a fire truck or some such nonsense.

"Good morning, sleeping beauty!" a voice chimed, forcing a chisel into Squalo's forehead. He turned to the right, dreading every tiny inch of movement, and opened his steely eyes. And there she was. The evil redhead from Ireland, the one ginger that truly didn't have a soul. Most of her strangely pale face was now covered by a pair of oversized sunglasses, their lenses tinted with a strange cobalt color. Seer grinned at her new friend widely, unaware that she was facing the opposite direction and instead smiling at a terrified young boy. An expansive collection of furiously whispered curse words brought her back to Squalo, however. She placed her long-nailed fingers on his chest and let them drift over his facial features for a moment before they were swatted away in an irate fashion. Seer chuckled loudly, realizing how unhappy the silver haired man was.

"Where are we?" he hissed, "What the Hell did you do?"

"Relax, dearie! We're on a plane to Sicily, I drugged you!" Seer exclaimed, speaking as though it was the most fantastical event to ever occur. She hadn't left her hovel in over six months, so the adventure she was embarking on was absolutely amazing.

"No, what the fuck did you do to me?" Squalo's voice took to a whole new level of sharpness. Now his patience had run out. He was beginning to care less and less about what Xanxus told him by the second. His knuckles whitened with fury as he gripped both hands into ready fists. Every muscle in his oddly sore body tensed with a seething rage. If he had his sword one could be guaranteed that Seer would be nothing more than a pile of torn flesh by now. Unfortunately, she'd probably placed it in some secret bag only to be opened by her command. Squalo still could have ripped the child limb from limb if he had a mind to, but that would disrupt his incognito lifestyle.

"Oh! I braided your hair and put you in a dress. You probably look darling, and no one will know it's you! No need to thank me, mooncalf!" Seer placed a laid back beam on her face, staring off into space beneath her glasses. She'd put them on as a courtesy to the other travelers, knowing quite well that nobody enjoyed looking at milky eyes and irises lacking pupils. At this point, Squalo simply turned away. He would save all his anger for when Seer left and then he'd make sure she never forgot wronging him. Though every time he glanced down at floral fabric draped over his chest he found it harder and harder to resist throttling her. Seer, of course, chose to remain oblivious to his roaring wrath and focused on lathering sunscreen over her white flesh. She knew she'd burn to a scarlet crisp if she didn't do something to protect herself from the sky. Her body skipped the 'lightly browned' step in tanning and headed straight for 'sizzled strip of meat'.

"Why are you even coming to Italy?" Squalo snarled. He'd managed to bury most of his blistering, roaring, unbridled rage in the recesses of his mind. For now, at least.

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><p><strong><em>Well~ I hope you enjoyed the next bit of this story. Don't forget to review and fav and sub and shiz~ Thanks for reading, mooncalves. The very pretty Squalo appreciates it.<em>**

**_~EXB_**


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